


step by step (let's grow together)

by blue_roses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_roses/pseuds/blue_roses
Summary: Victor hoped the meaning of that wasn’t lost in translation, he hoped all of this was as real as he could make it. Oh god, if Yuuri wanted this, whatever it was, Victor guessed he’d have to show his love. Or something. Because he was wide awake, and he was very much in love with Yuuri Katsuki.





	

**Author's Note:**

> my first yoi fic!!! i wrote it on the plane lol, and i was gonna wait to write until later but honestly? i need to get this out so i hope yall like!! <3

    It would be easy to assume the whole thing was a spell cast on him. That when he was asleep, before the sun rose and the rest of him took over, he was enchanted. Though the enchantment part was true, the rest was the wrong kind of romantic for him. From the start, he knew. Victor fell in love with Yuuri Katsuki when he was wide, wide awake.

    It was March, maybe February, when he knew his career was done for. He’d had a one track mind his whole life, the pieces of his family always said so, his peers, Yakov. Victor only acknowledged the fact when it was convenient, in brightly lit interviews with a smile he wore like most wore scarves when it was cold.

   Perhaps it was his fault, he never thought about what to do when it was over, never thought it’d be over. He was so focused on getting to the top he never saw he already had the view for, what, how many years? Victor might have considered himself lost, but that required a need to be found, and he felt no such thing. He hadn’t made a mistake, a true one, for so long he didn’t know what it felt like until _then_.

   He’d never been so happy about fucking up, or his forgetful mind in his life. He wouldn’t be able to recall exactly who he heard it from, or how he ended up watching a damn well perfect replica of _Stay Close to Me_ , by a Japanese skater he mistook for a fan. The rink was dimly lit compared to where he was only a month or so ago, but there was a warmth there. One that radiated from the screen, and Victor felt music, tasted something on the tip of his tongue, and started packing.

   Yuuri was an enigma in the same way Victor was a private person. It was hidden in who they were, and the assumptions held over them. Victor learned to tell the difference, to blend and define his selves however they worked, even when people called him selfish. He was aware of it, even though he shouldn’t be fond of it, he was. Selfish meant you thrived when the time was right, it functioned as an element of surprise. Victor has always liked surprises.

    Victor stretched himself out over Hasetsu in the way that suited himself best: unpredictably. He’d admit, he was glad to see Yakov a little flustered, and thrilled when Yuri (or should he say Yurio?) came following his trail. Victor only half remembered the conversation Yurio held dear, but still, couldn’t let himself feel guilty about it. He’d give two Yuris what they wanted, though they’d have to be at his speed.

   Yuuri had a fire in him, heat underneath his skin itching to get out. Victor knew since he saw the video, his childhood friends have known longer. Victor was a little out of touch, with the feeling, with the sincerity he’d have to communicate. Yuuri thought of his favorite dish where Victor thought of nothing at all. He didn’t remember the last time he had to, or wanted to.

   There was something about the stretch of time that eluded him. He only felt marks in the timeline when he forced himself to change. Long hair suited him just fine, but short hair gave him an image change. He’d get a dog, he’d change costumes, he’d push and push and take a number, face, memory, and mark it down. He hadn’t felt a use in anything further, but he was counting days in a competition he was supposed to be neutral. Thinking about how he placed himself into eager hands, made his time and location pliant. He was waiting, anticipating something he’d assumed he had total control over. Except for the fact he didn’t, and Victor felt a pull towards _lacking_ that he’s never had before.

   When Yuuri said _watch me and only me_ with every word and action, they were the same height only because Yuuri was on skates. Victor liked it, even when he knew he was supposed to comfort in a way he wasn’t sure he could. He was here to build Yuuri up, give him something, a code Yuuri would translate in his own mind. The thing was with people, was that every communication was coded. Victor didn’t know exactly how each action worked for Yuuri, so he did it in the way he did best, selfishly.

   Selfishly, Victor thought, as he couldn’t look away. Selfishly, he repeated, as more of him drifted from the competition to Yuuri. To the music he created without thinking, to the way he put himself into Victor’s challenge. To make it his, to build an image Victor couldn’t have predicted if he wanted to. And yes, Yuuri made mistakes. Messy jumps, even though he was practicing in secret with Yurio, neither of them were subtle about it. But they were undoubtedly _his_ , and Victor didn’t dare look away, even if he wanted to. Victor felt his heartbeat, pulsing, _hot_ in his chest.

  There he was, Yuuri. _His_ Yuuri proud and smiling in front of the cameras, and the light took him in like it hadn’t for Victor. Of course, he’d have to do some lecturing, because _god_ Yuuri still needed to improve. But even during that, even when Victor served as Yuuri’s anchor in the press, he felt his bones stir and a need for change.

   Afterwards, he went through his current circumstances. The problem wasn’t with Yuuri, or Japan, or coaching. But it felt like it had _something_ to do with Yuuri, and Victor knew he’d have to linger on this in his in the few in between moments he gave himself. Because Victor was making this up as he went, and he knew what others thought. That he was thoughtless, selfish, not just towards them, but towards Yuuri. He’d brush it off when it came to that, but it didn’t stop him from denying it in his mind. If anything, Yuuri was the one in control.  He just didn’t know it yet, and Victor was happy to tell him, but he wouldn’t make it easy.

   Victor only spoke Russian those days with Makkachin, because she understood him. They could lounge together in his room, and he was calm. Even though most of the time he was planning something or other for Yuuri. More than anything, Victor wanted him to succeed, and he’d put his all into it, even though he was fumbling as well. Then, sometimes, Yuuri would come in. For a while he’d say it was to check in his regimen, or for training tips, or for dinner plans. But he stopped needing a reason as soon as Victor stopped asking. He’d sit on Victor’s bed, going through his phone, reading a book. They could talk about random things, or skating, or nothing at all. There was a warmth that Victor didn’t want to let go of, and he let himself bask in it for the moments he could.

   “Victor?” Yuuri asked, it was around ten at night, Yuuri was looking at a book. Though when he spoke, his eyes peeked up at Victor.

   “Yuuri?” Victor responded, he felt himself smile even though just a few minutes before Yuuri came in he was stress smothering Makkachin.

   “Do you know how to cook?” Yuuri put down the book, and Victor didn’t understand much Japanese, but he knew that was a recipe book the moment he saw a page.

   “Not really,” Victor said, “why do you want to know that?” He could see Yuuri’s face change to something obviously flustered, until Yuuri shook his head and cleared his throat.

    “I was just wondering,” Yuuri paused, and Victor didn’t think he noticed he let out a quiet hum when he did it, “because I’m not too good myself. My parents always took care of that, and if not them it was some other food. But I just realized even my _sister_ knows how to cook, and I just…”

    “Wanted to know if I could as well? I’m glad you want to know more about me.” the reason didn’t seem like too much of a big deal. But Yuuri seemed hesitant, and Victor wasn’t naïve enough to think Yuuri’s anxiety was cured after winning once.

    “Yeah,” Yuuri said, “I was just curious.” Victor nodded, and before long they slipped into their own silence. That was, until Victor pointed out some recipe that looked good and Yuuri talked about what it was, and with prompting, the first time he tried it. Victor wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name, and Yuuri responded with the fact that a lot of things happen to get lost in translation.

   Victor looked at the way Yuuri’s eyes lit up and his smile broadened with a softness when he talked about a happiness born from home. He saw Yuuri circling that recipe with a pencil, and when Victor was too obvious, closing it and looking away. He looked at the way Yuuri almost fell asleep in his bed, until he remembered he had his own.

   “So,” Victor said, “are you planning on making me a gift?” He pointed at the recipe book. Yuuri gave him a look like he just got stabbed, and Victor didn’t understand the sentiment. He thought it was sweet.

  Yuuri smiled in response, a quick recovery, “Depends on how tired I am.”

  “Yuuri,” Victor sighed, “I thought I meant more to you by now, or am I just arm candy for you to use at the Grand Prix?”

   Victor didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t Yuuri, walking a few steps back to Victor’s bed. One knee on the bed, a slightly…hazy sort of expression? He leaned towards Victor, slow and almost sensual, and Victor thought--all clichés intended--his heart skip a beat. Yuuri took a breath, reached his hand out, and pinches Victor’s arm. Then, keeping the gap between his fingers, put it against his own.

   “Ah,” Yuuri shook his head, “I think I have some work to do before you could be my arm candy.”

  Silence. For about four and a half seconds, then Yuuri’s mouth gaped open, as if Victor was the guilty one. He didn’t scream anymore, but it didn’t stop Yuuri from backing away, slowly, and turning away from Victor, all anxiety and no explanation. Yuuri said _goodbye_ as if he didn’t want to leave. That would make two of them.

  Victor hoped the meaning of that wasn’t lost in translation, he hoped all of this was as real as he could make it. Oh _god_ , if Yuuri wanted this, whatever it was, Victor guessed he’d have to show his love. Or something. Because he was wide awake, and he was very much in love with Yuuri Katsuki.

   He’d been told he was clingy, by pretty much all his exes. No one expected it, apparently, even though Victor figured it would be obvious. With everything he cared for, he gave it all he had, and him actually being in a romantic relationship was beyond rare. He and Yuuri were not in a romantic relationship. Victor was, for lack of a better term, clingy as hell. And this time a little more self aware than before.    

    The world didn’t stop around them, and Victor wouldn’t have wanted it to. They worked hard for this, and Victor planned on taking Yuuri as far as he could, to the top of it all. He’d told Yuuri, a slight slip, that this was how he showed his love. Yuuri still didn’t know how true that was. They’d grown, as a pair, Victor thought. Yuuri took his affection and reciprocated at his own pace. Yuuri fell asleep in Victor’s room on accident sometimes, though he still refused to let Victor in his room very often. Victor was aware Yuuri was his fan, he didn’t see the big deal of it. But Yuuri did, and above anything, Victor wanted to respect Yuuri.

  He swore though, if the skaters at Russia _knew_ how much he got away with, they’d tell Yuuri on the spot, as if he was naïve. But still, they hadn’t seen the way Yuuri had evolved over these months, and Victor didn’t want them to. That was a surprise for an audience that everyone they knew and didn’t know would be a part of. It didn’t stop Victor from pining, or being a little more forward than he’d usually be within the boundaries.

   Time after time, those boundaries grew, and it was Yuuri taking those steps. It was Yuuri from the start, Victor once again realizes, that had Victor in his hands. It was Yuuri who always managed to surprise Victor, to show Victor a new side of himself he never could have imagined. It was inspiration, and Victor never wanted to leave.

   “You know,” Yuuri said, after Beijing. They were in the airport, waiting to board.  Yuuri had triple checked whether they were in the right gate a few minutes ago, and they found themselves with nothing real to do except talk.

   “Yes?” Victor asked.

   “I think I need to tell you something,” Yuuri said. His face slightly flushed, mouth parted, but his eyes were completely serious. It seemed Yuuri was taking another step after all.

    For all purposes, Victor _soared_.


End file.
